


One Call Away

by Silverfern500



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Video Game 2018), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: But it's something okay, Fic is definitely not up to Author's own standard, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, I'm gonna get a Bingo by the end of the year if it kills me, Identity Reveal, M/M, Nudes, Phone Sex, Sex Cam Worker Peter Parker, Sexting, Short & Sweet, Texting, This should be smut, but it's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 10:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfern500/pseuds/Silverfern500
Summary: Peter's trying to make some extra cash.Wade doesn't even care how bad his favorite hotline-hotty is at doing his job.





	One Call Away

**Author's Note:**

> It's been forever. This fic did not go where I intended it to go. I still think it's cute. Built for the Nudes prompt on my Bingo Card.

“Hey, I'm SaltPeter616, I got your message. I'd love to talk more, sugar ;)”

It was Sunday morning. Holy day. Better people than Peter were currently at _church_. But no, Peter had been up all night (stopping an attempted rape and subsequently playing witness to the NYPD) and couldn't sleep after, so there he was. Checking his work DM's for any potential extra cash.

Nah, he hadn't started monetizing being Spider-Man. Instead, Peter had started monetizing being... Peter. The longer he stayed in the public's view, the less dots could connect him to Spider-man. After all, it was easy to press a button and send an old selfie snap or pre-written tweet, even with gloves on. So essentially, he could still be two different people at once. Still make money whilst patrolling. Definitely a win-win. So much so that It was like stealing candy from a baby...

...wasn't it? All Peter had to do was put on the same charismatic front he held while parading as a hero – flirt a little online, send a pic or two – and he was golden. It hadn't been easy, of course. Building a brand was never easy, 'sex work' or no. It involved a lot of a more awkward, younger Peter, tweeting like crazy and scrambling to find new and exciting poses that hadn't been done a million times before, before he got noticed. Before his poses became a _little_ more agile, a little more _dangerous_, to re-enact on his _other_ work sites.

As he sat there, hitting up new potential clients, Peter was drawn suddenly to contact someone he'd recently been working with. It brought a smile to his face, as he pulled up the contact deemed “SugarByeHoneyPunch”

* * *

Wade wasn't one of SaltPeter's first fans. He wasn't even among the first two hundred. But he figured he was as dedicated as the most perverted of them. He didn't even feel guilty about it. It was an innocent online crush, honestly. Nothing a thousand other guys like him didn't indulge in on the regular. Though, nobody _really_ believed they'd get real attention or a real connection with a cam-model, did they? Pretending to care or be interested is what they _did_. And sure, playing into the fantasy was nice.... it was really nice....

Wade's train of thought jumped track, in favor of playing out fantasies of just what he was trying to remind himself wasn't possible.. of what _exactly_ would be _nice_.... But then he was brought back, shaking his head with a ding on his cell phone. As Wade sat on a rooftop, scanning the streets below, he hurried to check his new notification on Snapchat. It was a new text from SaltPeter. The best thing ever. Wade squealed, kicking his heels against the side of the building where he sat.

_Hey sugar, it's me. Xoxo_

_Are you up for some fun??_

Wade's mind ran dirtier than The Thames in ye olde London. He startled, calculating how far he was from a safe-house... but nah, too far. And he didn't care, anyway. Nobody could see him from the high rooftop. Not unless old Iron-fart went flying by, or.. but nah, he had a preternatural sense when it came to knowing Spider-man was passing nearby. A Spidey sense-sense, if you will. And the itsy-bitsy spider was nowhere around. So he just texted back:

_ **Always up for you, sweet lips. ...sugar tits? Hot nuts? ** _

Shit, he hadn't meant to send at least half of that. See, truth was, Wade really kind of liked this kid. More than he was allowed to. And Wade was lonely. Often. And crazy. But Peter was one of the rare ones. Someone who could make the voices shut up. So Wade went on sending the cam-boy money, and talking to him like a best friend. (_A best friend he just happened to rather want to fu-_)

* * *

Peter lifted his mask over his nose so he could better breathe in the stale city air. Enjoying the light breeze as he offhandedly waved off a few pigeons interested in his discarded gloves. Peter squinted at the sunrise reflected off the CN tower, and tried to see his phone screen in the glare. Ah. There was his favorite client. _Wait, favorite client? You can't show favoritism!_ A slight frown pulled his smile down as Peter clicked his tongue and thought of what to say next. His bare fingers hovered over the keyboard...

_Same as always, 20 minutes for 25$? That good for you, sugar?_ He hazarded.

The reply was immediate, and familiar. _**I'll take whatever you're willing to give, Petey.**_

Peter licked his lips. He knew it was a risk to talk on the phone. Using his real voice. The voice changer in his suit was okay enough, but his anxiety told him someone could still link Peter to Spider-man that way. It was only a matter of time. His fake number through a rerouting phone app didn't ease his discomfort either. He'd also lied to SBHP way back when they first started this. He'd said he'd _done this before_. That he provided voice calls to other clients.

Peter didn't. When his secondary call app began ringing, he almost dropped his phone. 56 stories down, to the concrete. The truth was...

“Hi~ this is your #1 fan!! Oooo!! What are you wearing?!” The man didn't even pause to see if Peter had answered.  
  
...the truth was, Peter only let one client call him.  
  
With a shaky laugh, Peter settled the phone to his ear. Relaxing back onto his free arm for support. “Hi, Wade.” He breathed out with amusement. Rather than the sultry tone he thought he ought to have, something like from _For A Good Time, Call_, he always sounded open and nervous. But his client never seemed to mind. “I'm wearing a blue button-up and jeans, as usual.” he drawled. As if it were obvious. It should be obvious. A variation of colored button-ups and types of jeans is what Peter always lied about wearing, on these calls. It's what he wore as a plain-jane when not in costume, anyway. So the hint of truth seemed to justify the lie. Peter let himself relax farther onto the roof he was on, feeling the uneven concrete through the spandex on his back, as he listened to Wade's voice on the line.

“_Sounds fucking sexy, Petey. You know me. Spider-man boxers and nothing else._”  
  
Peter blushed. It wasn't the first time Wade had mentioned those. It was a little embarrassing, if not flattering to know that his client was a fan of both his identities. Fortunately - or unfortunately - that's where all semblance of 'phone sex' usually ended. Peter hummed into the receiver, lazily fingering a loose rock by his side as Wade continued to talk.

“_So, why are you salty this morning?_” Wade asked, genuine curiosity and concern laced throughout his soft voice.

Peter took a deep breath, allowing his eyes to close. Ignoring the sounds of traffic below, and the ever-constant cooing of the native pigeons. The same ones he'd scared off to the other side of the roof. “I'm gonna get fired.” he admitted.

Wade's reaction was an immediate, and definite, scoff. “_From what, FansOnly? Pete, baby, they should be groveling for the chance to work with you._”

As nice as it was to have someone on his side, unconventional as their relationship may be, Peter didn't want to talk or think about it this time. Honestly, usually he could go on forever about whatever had upset him that day, until he was tired enough and had run out his anxiety enough to sleep. And Wade was always happy to listen. He even paid for any overtime without a word.  
It was always nice. Even when sometimes, Peter passed out on a rooftop only to wake up to a Red-Black panda mask peering down at him in curiosity. Though that wasn't of importance at the moment.

Peter was glad to have Wade. Lucky, really. Was happy their first tentative call had gone just like all the following calls. Unexpected, warm, and caring. But Peter wasn't glad for the casualty now. Not this morning. What Peter needed wasn't a listening ear. What he needed was relief. So, with a shaky breath, he clarified. “Not... not _this_ job.” Peter hinted. After a pause, he hedged to ask, swallowing and steeling himself, “Speaking of, what would you do if I were with you right now?”

Apparently, what Wade would do was laugh. His laugh was deep, a little hacked. “_Oh, baby boy,_” the man crooned, “_is that how you ask the others? That was terrible! If you were here now, I'd give you a hug and start up Mario Party_.”

“ '18?” Peter asked absentmindedly. Envisioning the nod his client was giving along with a satisfied hum.

“_Yeah. The year the best Spider-Man game came out._”

Aaand... there was that blush again. Peter tried not to groan in frustration as he realized Wade had again steered their conversation away from sex. He pulled his phone away long enough to check the time. 15 minutes remaining. Shaking his head, Peter put his ear back on the receiver. “No, no. I meant more like...” his mouth went dry like it only did when he tried to flirt. When he was nervous. And if his tone was a little rougher, a little lower, when he spoke again... well, that only added to the act. “If I were there.. and we were playing-” Peter hid a frustrated groan “-Mario Party, and I happened to spill soda on my shirt-”

Wade couldn't hide the small sound that escaped him as his mind ran with Peter's words. He could hallucinate that trickle of sticky sweet liquid landing on Peter's navel and trailing down.... He swallowed. “_Well, I uh. I guess you'd want to change out of it, huh._” he managed.

“Mm-hm,” Peter hummed distantly. “So I'd need to take off my shirt, but it'd get stuck over my head, because I'm clumsy-” Wade just laughed nervously on the other end. Peter didn't know if that was a good or bad sign. But he was revved up and he didn't care anymore, so he just ran with it. “And maybe I'd happen to slip, and _fall over _into_ your lap_-” he finished. Only cringing a little on the inside. Heat was crackling under his skin, though. His mind running with the imagery. What if Wade wasn't into it?

* * *

….Wade was definitely into it. He could imagine Peter falling into his lap, and he made an involuntarily slight thrust with his hips as he did. He wanted to tell Peter, '_Then I'd give you something other than soda to choke on_.' but. He didn't. He couldn't risk offending his only.. friend. So instead, Wade groaned in frustration and said, teeth grinding- "Then I'd help you _back up _and then I'd get you a spare shirt_." _Of course, imagining that toned body of Peter's in one of_ his _shirts didn't help Little Wade to calm the eff down_, _but it was better than losing the guy entirely_. _So what, though? Wasn't this actually Peter's job? Why couldn't Wade let himself play along? _Stupid_, stupid, STUPID. Still, Wade resisted.

And Peter relented. Ten minutes. They both checked their phones at the same time. With a sigh on the line, Peter let go. "_Okay_." He breathed. It sounded so dejected, Wade had to bite his finger to stop his agitated whine. "_Okay. Well, then would you still want to play the game? I think I'd be too embarrassed, I-_" The boy hesitated, and Wade sat up slightly with renewed interest. "_I might just go hide in your bed...._"

Wade couldn't imagine Peter in his bed. He wanted to. But he couldn't. Not Peter, not anyone. The closest he'd gotten to sleeping next to anyone was the one time he came to life in someone's arms. Someone clad in red-and-blue spandex, crying into his chest. And wasn't that the worst boner-killer? With a ragged voice, and no more pretense of being into Peter's phony-phone sex, Wade just told him... "Then I'd tuck you in, baby boy."

* * *

"_Baby boy_"

The phrase rung in Peter's ear. The man's voice.... Wade's voice. That endearment. Peter hit the back of his head against the roof, wincing in pain. Finally, softly, he spoke. "I'm, I'm gonna have to call you back," he managed, faintly, and hung up.

* * *

8 minutes. There had been 8 more minutes. Hadn't there been? Wade's mind spun, and spun. He was dragging bare knuckles across brick, now. Just to feel the pain. To smell the blood. He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up. There had been 8 minutes, and Peter had given up on him. And it had been 12 minutes since the line had gone dead. Peter hadn't picked up on Wade's 26th call back. The line had been disconnected. Or, not disconnected. It had rung through to a pizza place on the 27th place. And Wade had been black-listed from NY Pizza Suprema when he called the cashier a toe-sucking motherfucker.

But then Wade's phone pinged. With a snap from SaltPeter616.

And there, clear as day, was a photo. Of Peter's smiling, stressed face. Small acne marks and furrowed brow and lazy brown hair, and all. A spider-emblem low on his chest, the neck of his suit low on his collar-bone, as if he'd been stripping and had thought better of it. And the caption just said, "_Hello, DP. I'm Peter._"  
  
Wade was pretty sure he hadn't been breathing for 45 minutes when he got a text from Spider-man asking, "_Where are you? Wanna grab brunch?_"

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!~ I moved to Montana from Washington!!! I still have awful internet, I don't have my life together, I don't know if this relationship I'm in is worth the move I made to come here, and I haven't written in ages which... just feels like the worst of all the things, honestly. Also I just turned 25. I miss my Discord community, and I hate that I haven't been able to talk to any of my fellow writers in forever.  
Anyway. I hope I'll be back in the swing of things soon, but until then.... Have this bullshit.  
Hopefully Central Park Meet Cute and Accidental Marriage will be my next works, to finish out this Bingo by New Years. But if I don't make it....  
Well at least I'll have Wade and Peter to mock me. Love you guys!!!


End file.
